


Mission

by EllieRose101



Series: Spuffy vs. 2020 [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:54:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23895649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieRose101/pseuds/EllieRose101
Summary: The world is in danger and a particular manpire is on a mission to help. For him, the apocalypse has never been so personal.
Relationships: Spike/Buffy Summers
Series: Spuffy vs. 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775368
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25
Collections: Fic Journal of the Plague Year





	Mission

**Author's Note:**

> In this post-series universe, Spike is a human/vampire hybrid, retaining qualities of each (it will become clear why as you read). You can head-canon his hybridness as either him having been Shanshu-d or being under the circumstances of my other fic, Weird Love, but you don’t need to have read that to enjoy this.
> 
> This is purely the result of the frustrating afternoon I had, in which I sorely regretted not having a manpire of my own. (Yes, it’s a pandemic fic.) Rated for adult language.

One Shot

Spike triple-checked his bag of supplies (wallet, keys, shopping list, cell phone, hand sanitizer) and headed out, jaw set and mentally prepared for what lay ahead. Not that anyone would be able to see the set of his jaw under his mask, but still. Battle was to be had and he was ready.

He walked the short distance to the grocery store and took his place in line, thanking the gods for his ability to withstand daylight these days. With stores closing well before nightfall and delivery slots snatched up faster than otter blood on the black market, he really didn’t know what he would have done otherwise. The clerks were unlikely to let in someone sizzling under a blanket, after all.

The line was long and slow moving. Spike wanted nothing more than to just jump to the head of it, but he was trying hard to be responsible these days. His fingers itched for a cigarette, no matter that it was literal years since he smoked his last. Buffy wouldn’t have it, now he was mortal (excellent immune system and speedy healing abilities notwithstanding), and given their current situation he couldn’t exactly argue. Not that he’d stand a chance of winning, anyway. He was whipped and he just so happened to like it that way.

The queue moved on a little and Spike shifted from foot to foot, his inability to stay still not having changed over the years. He tried to take his mind off the monotony of standing about by praying that there would be loo roll left by the time he got inside, when his petitions to any passing deity were interrupted by a presence appearing behind him.

Spike looked over his shoulder and found a woman talking loudly on her cell phone, standing not the recommended two meters away, but barely two bloody inches. To make matters worse, she had a young boy circling her, picking up all kinds of literal trash, which he would hand to her just so she could absently toss it down again. Spike blinked at her, barely able to believe she could be so… inconsiderate? Oblivious? Fucking stupid. Yeah, that’s the term he was looking for.

“So I told the doctor, I can’t manage on reduced doses of diazepam,” the lady said into her phone. “Can’t you just give me more than usual?” On and on she went explaining her situation to whoever the hell she was talking to, again and again taking items from her son and throwing them down, not glancing at him once. The boy ran a little way off, circled the entire line of people, weaving in and out, touched absolutely every surface in sight, kicked the building several times in several different places, and then rejoined his mother and took her free hand. She linked his fingers with hers, absently bringing his knuckles to her lips before releasing him again and carrying on her conversation.

The person in front of Spike moved forward one space, Spike moved forward one space, and the lady behind him took two strides and knocked directly into him. He turned around to glare, but it was like she hadn’t even noticed. He could not bloody believe it. Buffy’s voice echoed in his head, telling him to ‘play nice’, he looked beseechingly for a member of staff who would see the audacious flouting of the rules and step in to save his sanity, as well as his rising bloodlust, but saw no one.

Spike had never been one for rule following himself, it must be said, but this woman put him to shame. If the Slayerettes wanted an example of true evil, this was fucking it. When he could hold his temper no more and was just about to bite her head off – literally or metaphorically, he hadn’t decided – the line finally shifted and he was let inside.

He took a deep breath, swearing a fresh oath to the Powers That Be that if they could just get him through this shopping trip, he’d never hurt another soul for the rest of his existence, whether that turned out to be eternity or not.

The resolution to rein in his anger lasted all of two minutes until he hit the produce aisle and was forced to queue again. He had nothing against queuing, besides the boredom of it. He was British, after all – they took such things as seriously as a cuppa tea – but if there was one thing Brits could not abide, it was jackholes like the new person behind him, who not only pushed in front, but made a tutting noise as he passed, as if Spike had just stopped in front of him for the good of his bloody health.

After that came some bloke in a beanie sauntering the wrong direction through the meat section, blissfully ignoring all of the ‘one way only’ signage.

That did it.

Spike blocked his path, pulled his mask to his chin to bare his teeth and brought his bumpies out to play. Beanie asshole paled, looked like he might genuinely shit himself, and ultimately backed away in the right direction. Word must have gotten around about the incident because, for the rest of the shopping trip, people were going out of their way to give Spike a wide berth. He smiled to himself, pleased to finally be picking up speed. He couldn’t bear to be away for Buffy for long in general, but especially now.

Checkout happened in record quick time and Spike could see the end was in sight when, just as he reached the doors, a security guard pulled him aside.

Well, bugger. This would probably why Buffy warned him against growling at people, wasn’t it?

\---

Buffy finished up her Zoom chat with Dawn and the Scoobies, wondering what on earth was keeping Spike so long. She wriggled around on the couch, trying to get comfortable, but she just couldn’t settle. Having picked up the phone, she was just about to call his cell when the front door opened and in he strode.

“Thank god!” she exclaimed. “We missed you and we’re hungry and–”

Spike held up a hand, said “One tick,” and disappeared into the kitchen to set down the grocery bags.

Buffy pouted after him, hating the dismissal no matter how much she understood it. She listened as he washed his hands, put everything away, washed his hands again and then padded into the utility room, shoved all his clothes in the wash, then closed the bathroom door.

Buffy sighed, resigning herself to having to wait at least another ten minutes for him to shower and get changed. She’d told him it was overkill to do that every single time he went out for food, but he wouldn’t listen. She wanted to get up and take a look at what he’d been able to find, this time, hoping that the store had gotten in more rice and pasta, but she knew he’d have a problem with that, too. These days, he was so anal about everything, constantly decrying that there was no such thing as being too safe. It would drive her nuts if it wasn’t also incredibly sweet.

Finally, he emerged from the bathroom. Buffy heard him rummage around in the kitchen for a minute before he appeared in the doorway to the living room and presented her with a bar of chocolate and a pickle.

She beamed up at him, taking a moment to smooth back the still damp curls sticking to his forehead. “Thanks for getting these.”

He smiled back and kissed her forehead, then her bump. “Anything for you, pet.”

Buffy took a big bite of her pickle and asked around the mouthful, “So what took you so long?”

Spike chuckled. “Would you believe, I’ve been offered a proposition.”

She raised an eyebrow, breaking off a square of chocolate as he continued on to explain that the store offered to let him jump the line and get first refusal on all ‘in demand’ items if he made sure to scare other shoppers into following the social distancing rules when he was there.

Buffy set her chocolate bar and pickle aside to pull him into a celebratory kiss with an exclamation of, “My hero!”


End file.
